White Slaves; or, the Oppression of the Worthy Poor by Banks, Louis Albert

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[illustration: Portuguese Widow In Attic.]

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Ii. Letter Of Criticism.

Iii. Reply To A Criticism On "the White Slaves Of Boston Sweaters".

Iv. The Plague Of The Sweat-shop.

V. The Relation Of Wages To Morals. -james Russell Lowell.

Vi. The Wages And Temptations Of Working-people.

Vii. Boston's Uncle Tom's Cabin.

Viii. Social Microbes In Boston Tenement Houses, And How To Destroy Them.

Ix. Old World Tides In Boston.

X. Our Brothers And Sisters, The Boston Paupers.

Xi. Comment On "our Brothers And Sisters, The Boston Paupers".

Xii. The Gold God Of Modern Society.

The fact is, that everything that concerns health, education, and good morals occupies the minds of women more than it does the minds of most of their husbands and fathers; and in every department of municipal administration, where the conditions of the streets, of the sewers, of the hospitals and almshouses, and of the police, are in question, women have an equal interest with men, and in order to the public well-being and safety, ought to have an equal voice. I am sure that an advisory board of leading citizens, on which were three or four level-headed, humane women, would work the revolution that is needed in the treatment of Boston's paupers. Do not put this question aside. This is Boston's question, and you are a part of Boston. As some one sang in the Boston _Transcript_ not long ago:--

"Lazarus lies at your gate!
O proud and prosperous city,
How long will you let him wait?
Listen and look; have pity.Dives, oh, cannot you hear,
For the music and dance of your high land,
The moaning of misery drear
That comes from the desolate island?Finest of linen you wear;
Comrades in luxury you cherish,
Sumptuous daily you fare.
What of your neighbors who perish?When you would heighten your cheer
By a contrast that's very dramatic,
Fancy what scenes may appear
In a certain dim hospital attic.Swarming and sweltering, and scant
Of air,--foul to soul as to senses,--
Where he that is guilty of Want
Meets a doom fit for graver offences.Worn-out, the pauper nurse sleeps;
The sufferer, forsaken, is crying
With no one to moisten his lips,--
No one to mark that he's dying.Who should hear the _catch_ in his breath
'Mid the coughs, curses, ravings, resounding
Through the ward o'er the bed of his death,
From the close-crowded pallets surrounding?And picture the scenes, to come
Perhaps, of another sorrow
Nearer your stately home,--
That you will not have to borrow;When hushed is all merry din,
And your smiling guests have vanished;
When your flowers come blooming in,
To be glanced at once and banished;When vain are all the crafts
That Mammon serve, and never
Tour costliest, coolest draughts
Can quench the fire of your fever;When your street is red with tan,
And your oft-pulled door-bell muffled,
That the peace of a dying man
By no faintest sound be ruffled;When love, to give you rest,
Doth toil with soothings fruitless;
And skill has done its best,
And the town's best skill is bootless;When the chaises leave the place,
And the helpless, poor patrician
Lies looking up in the face
Of only the Great Physician,--God grant it with joy may be
That you hear, 'What you did toward others
Ye have done it unto Me,
In the least of those My brothers!'Lazarus lies at your gate;
Our kindly dear old city,
Let him no longer wait;
Open the doors of your pity!"

XI. COMMENT ON "OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS, THE BOSTON PAUPERS".

"There is no caste in blood,
Which runneth of one hue, nor caste in tears,
Which trickled salt with all."

Mrs. Alice N. Lincoln, who has given a large amount of time and painstaking interest to the treatment of the paupers, and who deserves more credit than any one else for the present hopeful campaign in their behalf, writes as follows in the _Boston Transcript_ of August 28:--